May 24, 2013
Written by Joe Pisani
Tuesday, 02 November 2010 22:30
While I was staggering to the bathroom in the middle of the night, I slipped on a “wee wee pad” and almost broke my neck, and in the morning, I discovered my slippers had been chewed to shreds.
I accused my daughters, but they blamed our puppy, who couldn’t defend herself although she had a guilty look on her face.
I’m worried this cute and cuddly puppy, which is half Maltese and half Lhasa Apso, has a criminal streak. Those large eyes and that innocent face can be deceiving.
At puppy obedience school, she’s the class cut-up and is always looking for negative attention, and while my daughters have bad habits, they never nipped my ankles when I got out of the shower.
Her name, depending on whom you ask, is Bella, Big-Big, Trouble, Sissy or Lilo. Is it any wonder she has an identity crisis?
In many ways, she reminds me of our last dog — a collie that looked like Lassie but acted like Lindsay Lohan and attracted more police attention than prom night party-goers because she barked all day, and the neighbors were constantly calling the cops.
“Lock her up,” I finally told the police officer, but he gave me a summons instead.
Part of the problem is I’ve never been a disciplinarian.
“Stop that biting! No more barking!” I yell at Bella, to no effect. I even tried, “God’s gonna punish you,” which is something my mother always said, but she’s apparently not afraid of me or God.
In desperation, I bought a book about dog behavior and learned they do more than eat, sleep, pee and gnaw on Cole Haan loafers. They can help high blood pressure and depression and add years to your life.
What I love most is she’s ALWAYS glad to see me when I stagger into the house after a long day. She starts barking excitedly and prancing on her hind legs, with her tail wagging and her doggie eyes sparkling as if to say, “You’re my hero! You’re my idol! You’re the greatest guy alive! Don’t listen to your wife and kids! No one else appreciates you the way I do. Woof! Woof!”
She has low standards and doesn’t care if I swear or forget to make the mortgage payment or leave my dirty socks under the bed. In fact, she likes dirty socks because it gives her something to chew on.
And when I’m sad, she comforts me.
“I don’t care if you loaf all weekend, I love you anyway!” she seems to say. “I hate work too.”
“I don’t care if you have bad breath. Smell mine!” (Woo. It’s time to buy doggie treats that promote dental hygiene.)
“I don’t care if you got a speeding ticket. I hate rules too! I just peed on the carpet!”
“I’ll be your friend forever ... if you give me your slippers!”
I honestly believe a dog is the closest thing we’ll find to unconditional love this side of heaven. We humans aren’t made to love unconditionally, but dogs are. Woof! Woof!
Joe Pisani can be reached at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .
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